Meddling in the Affairs of Mages
by chisscientist
Summary: A series of short stories about Urtho, Mage of Silence, and his friends and foes. Story 6: Trials of a Secret Gryphon-Parent
1. Friendly Fire

**Disclaimer:** _The Black Gryphon_ and the rest of _The Mage Wars_ and Valdemar Universe belongs to Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon. Anything you recognise belongs to them. Things you don't recognise are likely my fault. This is story is written purely for your and my enjoyment; I make no money whatsoever from this.

 **Author's Notes:** Some of you will find the title somewhat familiar – I am misquoting Gandalf: _Meddle not in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger_ , which is of course, Tolkien's. This will be a series of short stories about the Mage of Silence, and his friends and foes.

* * *

 **Friendly Fire**

"Oh no," breathed thirteen-year-old Snowstar in horror, looking down from the roof at his master and another mage who he'd just dumped about three feet of snow on. He scrambled down off the roof. "I'm so sorry, Master," he said, giving Master Redmoon a hand up out of the snow pile, then turning to do the same for the other mage. "Are you both ok?"

"Just what did you think you were doing, you silly boy?" Master Redmoon demanded.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Snowstar again, face scarlet as he looked down at his feet, trying not to look at the mages as they wiped faces clean of snow and shook off more of the unwanted cold whiteness from their cloaks. "I thought you were Starflower."

"Were you trying to bury her alive, then?" demanded Redmoon.

"No… I was just trying to pay her back for filling my hood with snow this morning."

Now look what she'd made him do! He was so going to get her back for this. After checking it WAS her, of course. Dunking snow on his master was bad enough, but doing so to his colleague was worse. Snowstar wondered if the grey hair of the stranger meant he was an Adept. He hoped not.

The mage snorted softly and upended one boot. Snow fell out. "I think you'll find her back by the fire indoors," he said. "I assume she's the one about your age, wearing a red dress?"

"That sounds like her, sir," said Snowstar. At least the stranger seemed more amused than angry.

"I want you to apologize to Adept Urtho," said Master Redmoon.

 _Adept, oh great… and that name sounds familiar_. "I'm sorry Adept Urtho, and I will look to make sure I have the right person before dumping snow on people in future."

"That would be a wise idea," said Urtho. "Some people don't have much of a sense of humor when they have snow all over them." He glanced at Redmoon and raised an eyebrow.

Redmoon glowered, and gestured at Snowstar to be gone.

Snowstar bowed, then turned and ran. Behind him he heard Adept Urtho's voice, "you've got to admit it isn't as bad as the lightning mud incident."

Adept Urtho… suddenly the name clicked and Snowstar skidded to a halt. He'd just buried the most powerful mage on the continent in snow. Snowstar groaned. If his dad ever heard about this he was so dead.


	2. Hummingbird

Urtho hummed softly as he worked on the hummingbird brooch. It was a silly thing to work on at this point, but he'd learned long ago that staying sane was important. Little by little, the bird took shape in metal. He'd just begun setting in the first of the agate chips into their setting when Kelethen called from the top of the stairs.

"Adept Urtho, there's a messenger here from the Third. There's a problem with their evacuation Gate-"

"I'll be right there," said Urtho with a sigh, putting down the agate chip and getting to his feet. He'd get back to the brooch later.

He never did.

* * *

A/N: Why there was a half-finished hummingbird ornament in Urtho's workshop during _Storm Breaking_.


	3. Oh No, Not Again!

Kin'risha grinned as he worked on the tunnel. Judging by the hollow sounds and faint sound of bouncing pebbles and rocky bits, they were nearly into the interior of Urtho's tower. Wouldn't that be something to tell Quasena about. He stopped and wiped his brow. Hard work, but nearly there…

The next swing of his pick brought a much louder crack and more rock came away than usual, leaving a dark hole a little larger than his thumb. Yes! He stuck one eye up to the hole, expecting to see nothing but darkness.

Instead, the transparent, faintly-luminous figure of a thin, long-haired man in long robes looked back at him. A voice spoke softly inside his head: _Welcome to the Tower_ : it said. : _It's about time –_ :

Kin'risha didn't hear the rest, because he'd run down the corridor shrieking about ghosts.

* * *

Inside the tower, Urtho sighed and settled down to wait for someone less afraid of ghosts than they were of the Mage Storms to arrive.

* * *

When the group looking for a way to stop the mage storms got there the next day, their reactions to the story were mixed.

"Oh no, not again," groaned Firesong.

Karal was quiet and a little bug-eyed.

: _Really!:_ Altra said _: that could be very useful.:_

: _Yes_ ,: said Florian. : _Vanyel's ghost was very helpful. I don't see why Urtho's wouldn't be, if in fact he is here_.:

Treyvan rocked slightly, talons digging gouges in the dirt. "Urrtho cannot be here. It hass been two thoussand yearrss!"

"Two thousand years," said Silverfox softly. "I hope he's still sane."

An'desha said nothing, but bit his lip, probably worrying if Urtho's enmity with Ma'ar would extend to him.

"I am going to go and talk to him," said Hydona, pushing her way past the others. The others looked at each other, and followed her.


	4. Graceful Gryphon

"Now," said Gesten from his seat on the other side of the tent, "you hop forward once, then back twice, and then spin in a circle twenty times. Go on, try it."

"Aren't you going to demonstrate?" asked Skandranon.

"I'm busy mending," said Gesten, gesturing with the hand that held the needle. "Unlike some people, I actually have work to do. Your turn, Featherhead."

Skandranon hopped forward once, back twice, and moved into the spin. He spun once, twice, thrice… however, on the eighteenth time, the talons of his right hind foot snared on his left primaries. He could have fixed this, but then his tail got involved, the world tilted, and he was looking up a long way at Gesten.

Who was laughing, and slowly revolving, along with the rest of the world. "So much for gryphonic grace of motion!" said Gesten.

Skandranon's eartufts flattened as he glowered at the hertasi. "Sso wass that a real dance, or were you tweaking my tail?" he demanded.

"Oh, the Maple Seed Dance is real enough. It's a children's dance… but the spinning is 'until the participant falls over'. You did quite well, most kids don't get past fourteen."

Skandranon picked himself up off the tent floor. "I think I shall ask Poidon if I want to learn hertasi dance moves from now on," he said, stalking out of the tent.


	5. Predain Mage Conference, 46 BC

Urtho gated into the compound about an hour before the first lecture was scheduled to start. It was a long way from Ka'venusho, too far for even him to want to Gate in a single step, so he'd stopped over the previous night at the High King's Palace. There was usually some business needing him there, and last night had been no exception.

There was some minor paperwork to be gotten through for the foreign mages, so Urtho joined the group milling around by the front desk. "Urtho!" said a familiar voice. Urtho turned, spotting Adept Taani's intricate white braids just ahead. "I thought you weren't coming this year," she said.

"I have something to present, and thought I'd get it out of the way now so I've the Tantara conference free for more important work."

"Honestly, Urtho, I don't know how you keep coming up with this stuff. What is it this time?"

"Wait and see," said Urtho, smiling. He relented. "Nothing too terribly exciting, just quantification of the rate of reduction in energy required for Gating when a location is used repeatedly."

"Hmm. How'd you do that? It can't be linear."

"It isn't. There's an asymptote involved when a location is used frequently enough, and the energy required increases according to a different equation when unused for a while."

"Ah, I might have known." said Taani. "There's a reason I prefer practical work to theoretical. Too much math! I've got some applications of weather modification for use by groups of apprentice mages to discuss this time."

"Papers please," said the clerk.

"Here," said Taani, shoving hers at him.

The clerk, a skinny teenage boy, caught them. He pursed his lips as he checked them, then checked off her name on his list, and handed her the sign-in sheet.

Urtho almost looked away, then noted that the clerk was an adept-potential mage. Only half-trained, and North-east Predain tribal origin by the tattoo and the yellow-green eyes. Interesting. You didn't see a lot of north-tribal mages in Pretair. Living far to the south in Ka'venusho, Urtho knew little of them.

"Will you be attending the conference proper, child?" asked Urtho.

"My master is, and I get to listen in." said the boy. "Papers please."

Urtho handed them over, and watched as the boy's eyes widened a fraction.

"Sign this please, sir," he said.

Urtho did. He then headed over to the main lecture hall, where he soon forgot the boy in favor of old friends and new ideas.

* * *

Ma'ar watched Urtho with a great deal more attention as he stood at the back of the hall. Some day he would be even more powerful than the famous Mage of Silence, and the world would bow at his feet. No more being addressed as 'child' by a southern mage who'd never had to hunt or kill to survive in his entire life. Someday…

* * *

A/N: I figure Urtho got a lot more secretive about his magical discoveries once the Mage Wars started looming. At this point everything's pretty peaceful and open.


	6. Trials of a Secret Gryphon-Parent

**Trials of a Secret Gryphon Parent**

Urtho always rather enjoyed the time he spent with Kechara. It took so little to make her happy: especially when compared to dealing with the demands of a war that refused to end. A thrown ball to chase, someone to sing and dance with her, someone to laugh with her and give her a hug and she was the happiest gryphon in Ka'venusho. She really deserved more time and attention than he was able to give her...

Urtho opened the door beyond the library into the gryphon records room, and closed it carefully behind him. He heard scrabbling and a yell of "Father!" as Kechara came charging around the corner of the next room towards him.

"Whoah, slow down Kechara," said Urtho, as he side-stepped the excited gryphon's wildly-flailing extremities. Unfortunately, he'd lost track of one wing and trod on the pinion-tips, which whisked out from underneath him as Kechara moved. Urtho lost his balance, throwing out both hands to try to stop his fall. There was sudden pain as his head hit the floor.

* * *

Kechara stopped dancing as Father trod on her wing. That hurt, and she squawked. Then Father fell down. "Wing hurts" she complained, trying to get a good look at her wing. "Father?" she forgot about her wing, which had nearly stopped hurting by now anyway, and walked round to Father's head. She nudged Father's head with her beak, but he didn't wake up. That was weird. The floor wasn't nearly as comfortable as her nest. Why didn't he sleep there if he was tired? "Father?"

Maybe it was a new game. Kechara lay down on the floor. It was cool and hard. "Game not fun," grumbled Kechara. Catch would be better. Kechara got up and trotted into the next room, picking up her favorite ball. It was bright red and just the right size to be carried in hand or beak.

"Want to play catch," said Kechara. "You wake up now?"

But Father didn't wake up. That really didn't look like a good place to sleep. Maybe she could improve it. Kechara went back to her room and grabbed a blanket with her beak. She pulled it over to Father and left it lying half on top of him. Then she went back and collected a couple of pillows, one of which ended up under Father's right arm, and the other on top of his legs. Kechara sat back and examined her handiwork. It was good.

Satisfied, she turned to chase her tail.

* * *

Urtho groaned, realizing that he was lying on a hard, cool surface and his head hurt really badly. He winced. Mage-drain? Not if he was lying on the floor with no one making a fuss. Surely he hadn't gotten drunk and fallen asleep on the floor? He hadn't done something that stupid in over a century. He squinted his eyes open and sat up gingerly, feeling his head. There was a very painful lump he didn't quite dare touch, and around him blankets and pillows that didn't want to stay in focus.

"Father, you're awake," cried someone loudly. Kechara. Only there were two of her, somewhat overlapping. Urtho squinted at her. He probably had a concussion.

"Nap game boring. You play catch now?" Kechara held up a ball.

 _Wonderful_ , thought Urtho.

"Catch." She threw the ball(s) at Urtho.

He reached up automatically, missed, and the ball bounced off his shoulder. Urtho blinked at his hand(s). He really needed to see a healer. "Kechara, I can't play with you now. I need to go."

Kechara cocked her head, then drooped. "But you just came!" she protested.

"I hurt my head when I fell."

"Oh," said Kechara. "You have an owie."

"Yes," said Urtho.

"I make it better!" said Kechara too loudly right by his ear, and preening his hair with her beak.

Urtho jerked his head away as pain exploded, shutting his eyes tight and hoping he wasn't going to pass out again. "Ow... don't!"

"Father having a bad day?" said Kechara tentatively.

"Yes," said Urtho, wondering if he dared open his eyes again yet. He needed to get out of here. That reaction was really not a good sign. He opened them and looked at Kechara. There were still two of her. "Can you open the door?" Maybe he hadn't locked it. He couldn't remember.

"Yes!" said Kechara, bouncing to the door, and attempting to open it. It didn't budge. "No?" she said.

Not trusting his sense of balance well enough to stand, Urtho turned around on all fours and then lifted hands up to feel where the real doorknob was, as opposed to the two apparent doorknobs he could see. After a short while of fumbling while Kechara stared at him with flat ear-tufts and a worried expression, Urtho had it. He whispered the short incantation that opened it, and reached out with his mind. Pain, and black spots danced in his vision.

But the door opened. Kechara scampered through it into the library, which was not what he had intended. Slowly and painfully, Urtho crawled after her.

Kechara looked back at him. "I help you," she said, scampering back.

Urtho blinked at her, then started as Kechara grabbed the front of his robes in her beak and dragged him along the floor. She stopped in the middle of the library, looking uncertainly at the now even more disoriented Urtho. After a few seconds, he told her to take him to the far door.

Kechara promptly dragged him there, and looked at him expectantly.

"Thank you," said Urtho. He looked up at the door, and tried to sit up. His vision darkened with grey-black sparkles. He stopped, then remembered: this one wasn't locked on the inside. "Kechara, could you open the door?"

"I try," said Kechara, and reached out. It turned, and the door opened, colliding with Urtho's knees. Some awkward manouvering later, and Urtho was sitting on the landing outside the door, with the main spiral staircase right in front of him. There was no way Urtho was going to try that, with or without Kechara's help. Urtho leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. At least someone would find him out here if he passed out.

Beside him, Kechara shifted, feathers rustling. "Father hurt bad?" she asked tentatively.

"I will be fine," said Urtho. "Thank you for helping me." Below them, Urtho heard footsteps. "You need to go back to your rooms," he said urgently to Kechara. She was secret for a reason, and beyond that she was liable to trip over her own wings, fall down the stairs, and break her neck if left to her own devices out here.

"Yes, Father," said Kechara sadly as she trotted back into the library. Urtho pushed the door closed behind her, hearing the lock snick shut.

Just then, the source of footsteps came into view. Urtho squinted at them, but beyond the fact that they were hertasi, he couldn't tell who they were. Great.

"Lord Urtho?" came a confused voice he really ought to recognise. "Are you all right?"

"I hit my head," said Urtho, opening his eyes again. Kelethen. Oh, that was all right then.

"You don't look good. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"There's two of you," said Urtho.

"I'm getting a healer," said Kelethen. "Stay here, and DON'T MOVE." He hurried down the stairs, leaving Urtho stuck on the landing. Urtho closed his eyes and waited.

After what seemed only a few moments, Kelethen returned, followed shortly thereafter by Snowstar, Cinnabar and entirely too much fuss, followed by the diagnosis that yes, Urtho had a concussion, no, it did not appear terribly serious. He'd probably be fine, but he needed rest and an eye kept on him for a while.

Cinnabar asked about the damp hole near the front of the neck of his robes, but didn't get a straight answer out of him. If she didn't know that there were no gryphlets in the Tower she'd suspect he'd been playing with a rowdy gryphon fledgling. Ah well, even she didn't know all Urtho's secrets…


End file.
